“Josh?”
He heard his name and looked up. Aubrey was over by the doors. He couldn’t help himself; his face broke into a huge grin and he loped toward her, oblivious to the people pushing and shoving around him. God, she was beautiful, that curly hair sticking out at angles from her face, her lips redder and fuller than any girl’s he’d ever seen. She was starting to fill out, too, her body on its continental drift toward womanhood, a swell of hips and small breasts. She had long legs though she was only five feet tall, legs tight with muscles from all the walking and running and biking she did. Anything to stay moving. Aubrey was perpetually in motion.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Don’t be mad. I wanted to see you off.”
“But you’re late for school.”
“I’ll blame it on Sandy. Mrs. Pierce won’t know any different. I borrowed a bike and rode over here.”
Borrowed. Josh cringed at the word. Borrowed was her slang for stole, and it was something she did more than Josh liked. Aubrey’s versions of right and wrong were colored in shades of gray Josh didn’t completely understand.
“Be sure you take it back, Aubrey.”
“Yes, Mom,” she said, and flashed him a grin. He couldn’t stay mad at that face for long. She really had no idea what effect she had on him, on everyone around her.
The bell rang, and Josh jumped. “I better go. I’m glad you came by.”
“Me, too.” Aubrey looked like she wanted to do something, or say something. He waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment, then said, “Well, bye.”
“Bye,” she replied, then bit her lip and, faster than a cobra, leaned into his space and touched her lips briefly to his. Without a word, she turned and jogged back to the bike, hopped on and rode away. Josh stood there, staring after her.
She’d kissed him. She kissed him. After all the horrible imaginings, and the pleasurable ones, of trying to figure out how to get her to let him kiss her, she’d gone and reversed things on him.
He smiled. Oh, God. She really liked him.
“Yo, kid. Was that your girlfriend?”
Josh was pulled back to reality by the voice. He cringed inside, not knowing what to expect, turned with his fists clenched. The boy was taller than him, with dark hair and dark eyes, a beak of a nose. He looked strong, and Josh immediately put his weight on his toes, ready to punch and run.
“Yeah, that’s my girlfriend,” he said. Casually. Cool. Just the hint of a challenge in his tone.
The older boy’s face broke into a knowing smile. “Nice.” The boy bumped Josh’s shoulder with his knuckles. “I’m Arlo.”
“Josh Hamilton.”
“You ever been laid?”
Should he push his luck? Maybe not. This guy looked like he could see through most things.
“No.”
“Yeah, me neither. But you’re certainly on the way. She’s a little hottie. We should go in. Are you going to try out for football? I’m varsity this year. You’re awful quick—I saw you take off from the bus. You might make a good running back.”
Arlo chatted nonstop as they walked into the school. Josh followed him, dumbstruck when Arlo introduced Josh around to his friends, all obviously not ninth graders. They were practically men.
Josh thought back five minutes, to Aubrey’s darting eyes just before she leaned in and kissed him. She’d known people were watching. In one fell swoop, Aubrey had given him credibility in his strange new life.
And then he realized she’d done it on purpose, a gift for him. She’d anticipated his fears, his concerns, known that he would have a hard time, so had shown up—on a stolen bike, no less—to help him transition into this more grown-up world.
How did she do that?
He shouldn’t ask. She knew too much as it was. Insightful Aubrey.
His heart blossomed with something new and different, a feeling of warmth and excitement and depth that he’d never felt before. He shook hands with his new friends, went off toward his homeroom with strength in his step. High school was going to be just fine.
CHAPTER 29
Aubrey
Today
Three days passed with frustrating slowness. Aubrey and Tom took turns at the hospital, Tom during the day, Aubrey at night. They did twelve-hour shifts, watching, waiting, anticipating. Daisy had good moments and bad, but she’d been on an upswing for the past two days, and the doctors thought they’d be able to remove the ventilator by the end of the week.
Aubrey was completely exhausted. Exhausted and off her schedule and struggling with her emotions because, though she should be feeling nothing but pity and remorse, in all honesty, she enjoyed Daisy’s silence. Enjoyed her pain. That made her a bad person, she knew. But the woman had always been so cruel, so horrible, that Aubrey had a hard time mustering up too much sympathy for her.
She’d been anesthetized against compassion. That made her a sociopath, didn’t it?